


Eccentric, Brilliant, and Handsome

by aibidil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Celebrity Crush, Gen, Guilty Pleasures, HP: EWE, Humor, Jeff Goldblum - Freeform, Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Moscow Mules, Post-Hogwarts, Secrets, pub night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 02:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12925602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibidil/pseuds/aibidil
Summary: Blaise Zabini has never been more pleased with his attire. Little does he know it will expose a closely guarded secret.





	Eccentric, Brilliant, and Handsome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zeitgeistic (faire_weather)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faire_weather/gifts).



> Big hugs to **frnklymrshnkly** for betaing, and much love to **zeitgeistic** , who is a treasure.

Blaise Zabini walked towards the Leaky Cauldron wearing a pair of crisply pressed tartan trousers, a jumper emblazoned with the solar system, and a pair of brown Italian-leather loafers. He wore his Buddy Holly glasses, and he looked spectacular. As he walked down the street, he smirked with satisfaction as a witch wearing a feathered fedora walked into a wall as she stared at him, and not a moment later a wizard in a set of dated paisley robes set off an accidental rain shower while craning his neck to watch Blaise pass.

Blaise was used to it. He’d long watched with interest as his mother received the same treatment. It was merely what it meant to enter the public sphere as a Zabini.

He held a herringbone cape in a delicate drape over his left shoulder and walked assuredly through the door to the Leaky, searching for his friends. It didn’t take long to find them because the Gryffindors were in attendance. Ginny Weasley was currently hollering, and Seamus Finnigan was screaming, “You did _not!_ You did not!”

Blaise walked to the table, swinging his cape off his shoulder and draping it over the empty chair. “Hello, everyone,” he intoned. “No need to get up.”

Then he realised something strange; they’d all stopped talking. He looked up from where he had been smoothing his cape to see all of them—all eight people—staring at him. 

For a moment, no one spoke.

Finally, it was Weasley who broke the strange silence. “Er, hey Zabini. Nice jumper?”

The rest of the group gave a few nervous laughs, glancing in confusion at his solar system jumper, though he noted with some satisfaction that the male-attracted members of the group appeared slightly dazed, as was usual.

He thought the group was about to return to their previous discussion when Dean Thomas—that utter wanker—exclaimed with a strange amalgam of incredulity and awe, “You—you’re dressed exactly like Jeff Goldblum in the last issue of GQ!”

Fuck.

Internally, Blaise cursed himself for neglecting to consider that Thomas was Muggle-born and an avid fashion consumer. Aloud, he said, “What? I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

But Thomas had warmed to his subject. “No! The—the plaid trousers, the solar system jumper, even the specs! Christ, you look just like him, only black! And more Veela, less Jewish!”

“Less Jewish?” Draco asked. “Weren’t you invited to Blaise’s Hanukkah celebration last week?”

Blaise shot Draco a look; of course Draco would parlay an offhand and slightly offensive comment about his religion into a commentary on his questionable exclusion of Gryffindors from guest lists.

Pansy cackled and pointed an elegant finger at Blaise. “Is GQ a fashion mag? You’re dressed like a Muggle from a magazine? Explain.”

Fuck.

He could still save this. “I admire his sense of style. It’s jaunty, unexpected. Magnetic.”

Potter shrugged, like he was ready to move on, but Draco, who was next to him and had perked up when Thomas mentioned Jeff Goldblum, leaned forward ominously. That absolute fucker. He wouldn’t.

“I don’t know, Blaise. Should I tell them?”

How much had Draco had to drink? He _wouldn’t._

But fuck, there were _three_ empty Moscow Mule mugs in front of Draco and he was working on a fourth. Fuck. He _would._ That utter prick.

“Should I tell them about the _poster_?” Draco said, drawing out the last word to obscene lengths.

Pansy’s mouth dropped open in horror. Granger’s mouth formed a shocked “O.” Ginny Weasley began jumping up and down in her seat.

“The _poster_?” Finnigan asked, looking like Christmas had come a week early. “Yes, yes, Malfoy, tell us all about the poster.”

Potter, earning himself a position just below Draco, Thomas, and Finnigan on Blaise’s shit list, pushed the fourth Moscow Mule into Draco’s hand. 

Draco took a leisurely sip, relishing the dramatic pause. “Friends, pals,” he began, and fucking hell. Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose. “Who here has seen the film _Jurassic Park_?”

Ginny huffed a surprised laugh at the question, but her face was clueless as she looked around the table. Only Thomas, Granger, and Potter raised hands to indicate _Jurassic Park_ literacy. 

“I’ve seen it,” Draco drawled, languidly swirling his drink. “That might surprise you. What might surprise you even more is that I watched it on VHS at Zabini Manor in Italy in 1995.”

The group was entirely silent, on the edges of their seats. Blaise had never seen Finnigan pay such close attention to anything.

“The Muggle actor Jeff Goldblum—and I am not conjecturing about his being a Muggle; I _know_ he’s a Muggle because Blaise spent the better part of 1996 trying and failing to prove he was a wizard—features in this film. About dinosaurs.”

“Dinosaurs?” Ron asked, awash with confusion.

“There’s a scene where our hero has a hurt leg, and he’s sprawled out wantonly in the back of a truck, and his shirt is open, and he looks like, well I’m not sure. He’s not exactly my cup of tea—”

Ron interrupted Blaise’s mortification to put in, “Not enough lightning-shaped scars for you, Malfoy?”

Draco ignored him. “In any case, Blaise procured a _poster_ of this scene and had it on the wall of our Slytherin dorm starting in year five. He had it Disillusioned, but one infamous Thursday I walked in on him, shall we say, _indisposed_ with Jeff, and because it was a Muggle poster, Jeff wasn’t even reacting to the display being put on for him, which I found rather disconcerting. Once I knew the poster was there it stayed visible for me. I had to look at that poster everyday for years.”

Blaise was still standing behind the empty chair, staring at the group and trying to settle his face into an unperturbed mask to cover his inner horror. He took a breath and did what he always did when he wanted to look effortlessly handsome and casual—he closed his eyes and asked himself WWJD—what would Jeff do?

He opened his eyes and was shocked to see a flash from Granger’s smartphone.

“What are you doing, Granger?” Blaise asked, fearing the answer.

Granger’s fingers flew over her screen. She looked up. “I just Tweeted it to Jeff Goldblum.”

Draco cackled in that way he did when he’d overindulged and raised his copper mug to toast Hermione. 

Blaise sat down as calmly as he could manage, took out his smartphone, and began refreshing Twitter.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the referenced [GQ article](https://www.gq.com/story/jeff-goldblum-the-oral-history), which is also where Blaise’s (and Jeff’s) outfit can be found. Blaise’s poster can be found [here](http://cdn.collider.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/jurassic-park-jeff-goldblum.jpeg).


End file.
